


Always Have, Always Will

by spnfamily_alwayskeepfighting



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Character Death, Depression, F/M, Heartbreak, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicide, Swearing, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-25 18:29:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16203185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spnfamily_alwayskeepfighting/pseuds/spnfamily_alwayskeepfighting
Summary: On the biggest day of Dean’s life, nothing goes the way he had hoped. Everything went wrong. It always does for a Winchester.





	Always Have, Always Will

**Author's Note:**

> You’ve been warned. Proceed with caution. Possible tears and pain are inevitable.

Dean sat on the bed in the room he shared with Y/N and pulled a small black velvet box out of his coat pocket. Taking a nervous breath, he carefully opened it. Inside the box was a beautiful engagement ring engraved with the four words they had spoken to one another every day since their first “I love you.” Dean had spent weeks picking out the perfect style and hand picking the stones that went into it, all in preparation for the perfect day.

Today. Their four year anniversary.

Once Y/N finished showering and dressing he was going to pop the big question. Glancing over to the clock on the bedside table, he tilted his head, concerned. Y/N only ever took an hour at most, but the time was edging on an hour and thirty minutes.

Shoving the ring box back into his pocket, Dean made his way toward the bathroom down the hall, where Y/N preferred to be. “Y/N?” Dean called out, knocking on the bathroom door. Hearing nothing from the other side of the door, he repeated himself, alarmed when he received no response.

“What the-” he muttered, testing the doorknob to find it locked. That was strange, Y/N never locked the door. “Y/N/N, unlock the door, sweetheart,” Dean elevated his voice, thinking maybe she just didn’t hear him the first time.

Dean was once again met with an eerie silence, not the melodious voice he was accustomed to. “Y/N!” Dean yelled, panic seeping in. When he didn’t receive a response for the third time he kicked the door in.

Dean stopped dead in his tracks. “Y/N!”

There she sat on the floor, her back against the wall, and both her wrists slit. A blood-drenched knife was in her hand as she dragged another long cut up one of her forearms. Tears of silent agony streamed down her face but a quiet sob escaped her lips as she looked into Dean’s wide, panic filled eyes.

He took the few strides to her and sank to his knees, landing in a pool of her blood. “Oh my God. Baby, no… why?” He gasped pulling her to his chest in shock before fully registering all the blood and snapping into action. He took the knife from her bloody hand then raced to the cabinet, snatching the gauze before returning to her side. Frantically, he tried to wrap her wounds, but she weakly tugged her arms away from him.

“Dean…I’m sorry, please let me go.” Her voice cracked with a tone Dean recognized. He knew it all too well. There was an emptiness in it—the kind that spoke of a soul long ago consumed by pain.

“Sweetheart, _why_? I love you. You know that. Stay with me, please.” The wall Dean had long ago constructed around his heart crumbled and the tears fell faster. He nuzzled his face into her neck and kissed her. “Why… just… why? I love you. You mean everything to mean, Y/N/N. I can’t lose you. Not now. I want to marry you and spend the rest of my life with you.” He brushed a strand of loose hair behind her ear and gently kissed her forehead. “Baby, please… stay with me, marry me.” He pulled the box from his pocket and opened it for her.

“De… I’d love to but I can’t,” her voice was hollow. “There’s nothing left for me. This life,” Y/N let out a sob she had been holding in, “isn’t worth it anymore… but I love you. Please remember you were the one good thing to ever happen to me. The only light in my life. I love you. Always have and always will. If it didn’t have to be this way, I would marry you.” She gave him a weak smile and caressed the soft material with a bloody finger. Dean pulled the ring out of the box and snagged her hand, gently gliding the jewelry down her slick finger. Her breath hitched lightly as their skin met. “It’s so perfect…”

Her hand dropped, the effort of holding it too much for her drained body.

As she faded, Dean begged her to stay. He murmured words of love and clutched her cold body to his as if he could physically force the life back into her.

“I love you, Y/N… Always have, always will.” When the light left her eyes an inhuman wail wrenched itself from his chest and echoed hauntingly through the empty bunker.

Two hours later Sam found him drenched in blood and holding Y/N in his lap.

* * * * *

After he burned Y/N’s body, Dean went back to the room they had shared for the past three years and sank into the bed. Glaring at the wall, Dean thought about everything he should have done. This was his fault. How had he let her fall so far without noticing? He should have known. _How could he have not known?_ He should have said something every time her eyes glazed over. He claimed to love her… He should have recognized the pain behind her smiles.

But he didn’t.

Taking a shaky breath and trying to hold back fresh tears, Dean let his eyes wander around the room, his gaze falling on the ring box sitting where he'd left it on the desk, stained with her blood and just as empty as his heart felt.

Collecting himself, he walked over to Y/N’s bookshelf in need of answers. Pulling her writing journal off the shelf, he opened the forbidden realm in which all her secrets and feelings lay.

A sealed envelope labeled with his name fell to the floor. He picked it up with shaking hands and pulled the letter from within.  As he read, the tears he had been holding back began to fall.

_Dean,_

_I love you. Always have and always will. I need you to understand that. You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise. This… what I did. It was all on me. I knew you’d come here_ _searching for answers. I knew that you would check the one place I asked you never to look. I’m finally giving you permission to look inside my mind. To see and feel what I felt. I give you permission to read the secrets. These are the things I always wanted to tell you but never could. De, I wanted your help… I really did, but I couldn’t bear the thought of laying my brokenness at your feet. You’ve given so much to the world and to me I just couldn’t give you another thing to fix. I’m so sorry I have to do this, but there was no way to fix me. You have to believe me when I say this really is the only way._

_If you choose to read through this, proceed with caution, babe. What you’re about to read is what broke me. Some pages are a diary and some are poems. It’s probably all messy though, it’s not like I had an editor. If you need answers, this is where you’ll find them._

_I love you, De. Always have, always will. You gave me a chance at life that I would have never had. I can guarantee you this, I never wanted it to be this way. I never wanted to hurt you like this. I just can’t handle it anymore. I’m so tired of feeling this crushing pain weighing down on me. I hope reading my journal helps you understand what I went through, how I felt, and why I did what I did. And I hope it helps you realize that none of this is your fault, not even a little bit. You are the reason I even made it this far._

_Love always, Y/N._

Catching his breath, his hand trembled as flipped to the first page. He had no idea what he was about to read. All he knew was there were things Y/N hadn’t told him that he had hoped one day she would finally open up to him about.

This was not how he’d imagined the moment of revelation going.

Wiping away the tears with the back of his hand, Dean's eyes landed on the corner of the page. It was dated back to when Y/N would have only been a teenager.

“What happened to you, sweetheart,” he murmured aloud, his voice low. When he began to read the poem, Dean finally started to piece together what had happened to her.

_It’s 3 am_

_And I’m all alone_

_The pain in my chest_

_Is completely yours to own_

_You’re the creator of my pain_

_The source of my sorrow_

_You tore down my wall_

_Only to then_

_Turn and break my heart_

_You chose her over me_

_And picked me for your stupid little game_

_You once held the key to my soul_

_In the palm of your hand_

_But you tossed that key_

_And damaged the lock_

_Left me with broken pieces_

_Of a shattered heart_

“Son of a bitch.” Dean stared at the words for a moment, thinking about how the women he loved had never told him she had gotten her heart broken.

Flipping closer to the back, where the most recent entries were, Dean came across a journal entry that was dated exactly one week before her death.

_I thought about him today. He doesn’t leave my mind. And when I look at Dean… all I see is someone who I am terrified will just use me for sexual pleasures and manipulate me to hell and back again. I know how wrong that is, Dean is the best fucking guy I’ve ever met in my life but some part of me still believes he would be capable of it. Every time I want to tell him, I wonder if Dean would even care if he knew I’d been sexually assaulted by my first love. Would he just see some slut who was probably begging for it, like I’m sure everyone else does? Damien was the worst mistake of my life and yet I still want him back sometimes… like today. I love Dean more than anything but I can’t get rid of this feeling of wanting Damien back. When it happens, the feeling of him holding me and saying he loves me is all I can think about._

Dean shut the journal on his hand and closed his eyes to block out the pain-filled words. They replayed in the darkness of his mind, slicing against his resolve. “Baby… I wouldn’t have thought that about you. I love you and I wouldn’t have cared. You ar-” he sighed. “Were perfect.” As the words she would never hear dissolved into the air, Dean glanced down at his hand still wrapped inside the journal.

Did he want to keep reading?

Huffing through his nose, he opened the book and scanned the last few sentences on the page.

She still loved a man that had hurt her years ago, and there were times she’d rather have had him than Dean… The thought broke his already aching heart, though he knew it shouldn’t have. He’d seen the effects of long-term abuse, how twisted and warped a victim’s mind could be after being broken down.

A wave of nausea washed over him with his next thought. The idea of anyone causing  Y/N such pain not only sickened him, but it pissed him the fuck off. Dean’s rage urged him to end the motherfucker who did this to his girl, no matter how long ago it was. Whoever he was, he would pay in blood, the same as Y/N had.

But that would have to wait. For now, Dean found where he left off, turned the page and continued reading.

_Being with him, I was always depressed. I had trust issues and I doubted everything he said. Why do I still love him? What the hell is wrong with me that I still feel this way?_

_Hiding all of this from, De? Fuck, that’s the worst part. Having to put on the brave face and the smile when all I want to do is curl up and cry in his arms. But then he’d have to pick up the pieces and he doesn’t deserve that. Dean doesn’t know I self-harm, he just assumes all the new cuts on my body are from hunting.  I'm glad he never asks why I wear leggings and long sleeved shirts in the summer or why I always have the light off when we have sex. If he did I might have to break down and tell him. I don't know if either of us could handle that. Maybe if he did, this pain would lessen...but he doesn't ask, so I can't even fool myself into thinking he cares that much. I’ve been getting hurt on hunts on purpose… I need to feel something other than this emptiness inside. To finally feel something other than this aching loneliness. I shouldn’t feel this way, but I do. Dean’s been to hell and he’s still holding himself together better than me. What right do I have to be breaking inside?_

Dean closed the journal and ran a hand over his face, wiping away the streaming tears.

Guilt settled like a stone in his gut.

 _Your pain was valid, sweetheart. God, I should have known...Fuck, I think I_ did _know. I’m so sorry I never brought it up. Fuck, I’m so goddamned stupid._

The guilt transformed to anger again as he remembered there was a source for all this pain. There was someone he could _punish_.

Someone other than himself to blame for taking Y/N from him.

Dean snapped the journal open to the beginning again, searching for clues. His eyes zoomed across the pages as he hunted for evidence of the identity of this piece of trash as diligently as he hunted the other monsters in his life.

 _He broke up with me a week ago. I knew it would happen… I just knew. Yet at the same time, I didn’t. For weeks now, he’s been talking about this girl who “reminds him so much of me.” He never shut up about her. I feel like such an idiot. I acted ridiculously when it happened. I_ begged _him to come back. That’s when he decided to tell me that our entire relationship was a lie. All of it. He even cheated on me with my best friend! I had learned about that and confronted her… she ended up telling me the truth about the situation but I never believed it. I sided with “the man I loved” because I was in so deep. Thankfully I’ve had a friend show me the truth. That entire relationship was toxic now that I look at it from afar. He made me love him, took my friends from me, forced me into sexual activities… There were a few times I thought he was going to rape me. God, I’m so lucky he didn’t._

_There were times during those two years when I was truly happy. But there were more times when I wanted nothing more than to end my own life. He had been there for me when no one else had. He built me up but would then turn on me and tear me down. And I thought, through all of this, that he truly loved me. That he wanted a life with me. I was wrong. Now that those two years are said and done… I’m worse than ever before. I’m broken pieces of the girl I used to be. I was so vibrant and full of life. Now? I’m nothing but a cloud of darkness raining down._

Dean stopped himself before he started to drown in the guilt again. He resumed the hunt, looking for something to tell him where her ex lived. When he found it he slammed the journal shut and tossed it to the bed.

He’d never gotten Sam to the Impala so quickly.

* * * * *

Dean gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white from the strain. His jaw was clenched and his eyes focused on the road.

“Dean,” Sam pulled him from his thoughts. He glanced over at Sam, giving him the okay to keep talking. “I think I found us a case in the same area Y/N’s ex lives… If he even still lives there. But get this, victims’ brains are being sucked dry. I’m thinking wraith.”

Nodding, Dean spoke for the first time since explaining they left.

“Then you start the hunt. I’m going after this son of a bitch. I’ll meet up with you back at the motel.”

“Dean, maybe I should go with you. He’s human… You can’t…”

“No! You need to stay the hell out of this. This is for me to deal with. Not you. You,” Dean snapped and gestured emphatically. “You go do whatever it is you do.”

Dean glared at Sam until he sighed and went back to researching the case. He hated snapping at Sam, but it was for the best.

* * * * *

Dean sat in the armchair of Damien’s living room. Earlier in the night, he had left Sam sleeping safely at the motel. He watched Damien with a calm, deadly, stare as the man stepped cluelessly into the space. The second Damien spotted him, Dean was out of the chair. He made his way across the room before Y/N’s ex could react, pinning him against the wall.

“What the fuck?!” Damien yelled, anger in his eyes.

“You’re the reason Y/N committed suicide,” Dean growled. “And now, I’m going to kill you.”

“Y/N? I haven’t heard about her since I dumped her sorry ass in high school. She killed herself for me?” He smiled with self-satisfaction. “Damn. I have to admit, though, she was fun while it lasted. You’re her boyfriend, huh? Did she get any better in bed?”

Dean released Damien and slammed his fist into the man’s jaw, madness burning in his eyes. Damien’s stunned expression bore into Dean’s before being replaced with a smirk.

“She would hardly let me touch her. It took a lot of convincing to even get my hand down her pants.” He sneered, a maniacal laugh piercing Dean’s ears and igniting the rage that had been kindling. “You’re gonna kill me, huh? Kill a _stranger_ over a piece of ass?” Damien wiped the blood from his lip with his thumb before licking it off. Dean’s chest heaved as he saw red and charged.

Dean’s shoulder found it’s target in Damien’s chest and slammed the slightly smaller man back into the wall with a sickening crunch. Damien recovered quickly, quicker than Dean expected, and slammed his elbow between the hunter’s shoulder-blades. The two separated long enough for Dean to land an uppercut that sent Y/N’s abuser to the floor.

The second he had the upper hand Dean dropped down, his knees pinning Damien’s arms on either side of his chest.

“She was a good person you piece of shit.” The thud and squelch of Dean’s fists repeatedly meeting the bloody flesh of Damien’s face did nothing to quell the unrepentant laughter of the latter.

“ _Was_.” He spat from between the steel grip of Dean’s muscular thighs, “You really loved her I guess.” The laughter rang out louder around his mouthful of blood, the sound echoing in Dean’s head as the image of Y/N’s blood covering the bathroom floor wiped away all logical thought.

His fists continued to pummel the body beneath him, and Dean didn’t stop until he was met with silence. He stayed on Damien’s chest long enough to ensure the man wasn’t breathing anymore before standing.

“Always have, always will, motherfucker.”

The feeling of vindication he expected never came. Instead, all Dean felt was the hole in his heart where Y/N used to live.

* * * * *

Dean sucked in a breath as he stepped back into Damien’s living room. He could hear whimpers coming from behind the chair he had previously occupied. Quietly, he tiptoed to the chair and glanced behind to see a young woman leaned up against it with her knees to her chest. When she caught sight of him, she jumped and Dean’s heart stopped.

“Y/N/N?! Sweetheart, it’s okay, I’m here. You’re okay.” He crouched and lifted a hand to her bruised cheek, brushing loose strands of hair out of her face. She flinched at his touch but didn’t shy away from it. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her to his chest. “I thought I lost you, baby. God, I was so scared…  I love you so much, please don’t do that to me again.” He pressed his lips to her forehead tenderly.

“I love you too, De.” Her voice was a whisper, but it was the beautiful melodious sound he had been missing. “Always have…”

“Always will.” Dean finished as stood up and held his hand out to her. He wrapped her hand in his, the weight he’d been holding onto lifting away at her touch. He placed a chaste kiss full of emotion to her lips before turning to lead her out of the room.

A reflection in the mirror beside them caught his eye. When Dean looked, he found himself staring into the grotesque face of a Wraith standing between them and the exit.

Dean tried to clench Y/N’s hand in his but was met with nothing but the skin of his own palm.

She was gone.

Fresh pain snaked its way around his heart as realization set in. She hadn’t been there to begin with Dean turned to the monster wearing a human face with a snarl.

“You son of a bitch! You did more to her than just cheat and fuck with her emotions, didn’t you!? You _broke_ her!”

Damien’s smile widened as Dean took his last reckless steps forward.

* * * * *

Sam walked through the morgue the next morning alone. He’d gotten a call about a new body and had to rent a car because Dean and the Impala had been missing when he woke up. He tried to ignore the unsettling feeling in his gut when Dean’s phone repeatedly went to voicemail.

Pulling the sheet down from the corpse’s face, Sam’s heart dropped.

He had found Dean.

Here he was. Lifeless on the cold steel table, latest victim of the Wraith Sam was supposed to be hunting.

“No,” he whispered in disbelief as he lifted the stiff body of his brother into his arms. Tears slowly welled in Sam’s eyes, his bottom lip quivering. “Dean…” He felt the tears falling down his face as he cradled Dean to his chest.

Time seemed to stop as Sam clutched his brother while he cried. His hair fell into Dean’s face, but the older hunter didn’t complain.

Sam’s world crumbled to the tune of his own broken sobs as he tried to process his most recent losses.

First Y/N, the girl he had come to love as a sister, and now Dean.

His brother. His rock.

The man that had raised and protected him when their father couldn’t.

He should have pressed harder to go with Dean. Sam should have made his brother let him help. Sam shouldn’t have left him alone.

A flutter of wings sounded from behind Sam and a hand came to rest on his shoulder.

“Sam…We should bury, Dean. There may be a way to bring him back.”

Sam’s teary eyes met Castiel’s. “No,” he sniffled. “He deserves a hunter’s funeral. He went out guns blazin’ and he deserves to be with Y/N.”

“It was a Wraith, Sam. I don’t think Dean would have used a gun.” Cas said, not understanding the reference.

“Cas that doesn’t—Dean always said he wanted to go out guns blazin’ or at the end of a blade it just means… he just wanted to die on the job. He got his wish. He deserves a hunter’s funeral.”

Cas nodded, “If you think that is best, then we should give it to him.”

* * * * *

Another person they loved lost. The pain sank in, seeping into Sam and Cas’ bones.

Sam watched stoically as Cas gently placed Dean onto the painstakingly prepared pyre.

The woods around the bunker were silent. Sam hadn’t bothered to call anyone in his grief, leaving only himself and Cas to bear witness to the great Dean Winchester’s last moments on Earth. Sam choked back the pain as he poured gasoline over the cloth that wrapped his hero’s body.

It was ten minutes before he could bring himself to light the match, but he did.

As Dean burned, so did another branch of the family tree.


End file.
